Sun Poisoned
by unfold
Summary: Rory visits Jess in California. End of season three. Reviews are fantastic. :D Chapter six is up! Probably the last chapter.
1. One

**A/N: This the first story I've written with intentions of being more than a one-parter. This is just a sort intro chapter. This whole thing came to me when I was at the beach, in the bathroom, thinking about how bad my sunburn hurt. What I mean is, I miss Jess. **

I spend a week with him in California. I do it because I have thought of nothing but him for almost a year. I do it because I have been miserable since he left. I do it because he made me feel imperfect and I liked feeling imperfect. I do it because I had been too selfish and angry to realize why he left. I do it because he sends me a plane ticket with a note that simply says, "I'm sorry."

My mom finds it before I do as she goes through the mail after our return from Europe. There is no return address and no addressee name, just our house number printed plainly in all capital letters. She opens it curiously and slowly as I watch. Then, she looks at me and laughs the laugh she uses when something is entirely unfunny.

"Huh. Now, who on earth would be sending one of us a plane ticket to California accompanied by a very brief apology note?" I'm standing in the living room entryway and she looks at me from the couch.

"Oh." She's looking at me as if I knew this was going to happen. She thinks I've been hiding this from her. She thinks I've planned this already. I haven't.

She holds the envelope behind her back, trying to keep it from me. I'm frustrated because she's being childish about this. She gets up from the couch and walks over to me, bringing the envelope out in front of her as though she's presenting it to me. "So…are you gonna go?"

"I don't know." I try to take it from her but she pulls it away. "Just…let me see it." I grab it out of her hands and sit down. I'm breathing hard and my hands are shaking. The note is written on a small scrap of paper that looks like it was torn hastily from a notebook. Maybe he was just going to send the ticket without a word but decided against it. I finger the frayed edges and stare at the two words, reading them over and over.

When I look up, she's watching me but her eyes are soft. "You should go."

"What?" This is not what I expected her to say. She is supposed to be against this. She is supposed to talk some sense into me, make me realize this is stupid. I want her to tell me not to forgive him, not to fly across the country to see him. "But…what about everything?"

"You want to go. You're practically making love to those words with your eyes."

"You're actually telling me that I should fly 3,000 miles to the other side of the country to see a boy who left without saying a word about it to me? Need I remind you this is the same boy who told you off the first time you met him? Broke my heart? Tried to have sex with me? Crashed my car? You're telling me that it's okay to forgive him after that?" I'm mad at him, really, but I'm directing it toward her because she's here now and he's not.

"Babe, he did some awful things, sure." She laughs slightly under her breath. "But, despite all of that, somehow he managed to get you to fall in love with him."

"I'm not…" I stop because she's right.

"Go. I hate it. But, go." She smiles faintly at me.

"I don't know if it's….right. Shouldn't he be coming to me or something?"

"Probably. But, he sent you a plane ticket. That counts for something." She walks over to me and sits down on the couch, placing her hand on my back. "Of all people, I have never been a fan of Jess. But, you were so happy with him. I mean, you were different with him, a good different."

I'm shaking my head. "No, I was not a good different. I was one of those stupid girls who lets their boyfriend treat them like they're nothing only to forgive them the minute they start to apologize. I'm like one of those battered women who say, 'Oh, but I love him and he really doesn't mean it.' I hate that."

"You're not one of those girls. And if Jess ever lays a finger on you, he's dead."

"I am one of those girls."

"No, you're not. You just...know he means well." She laughs. "At least one of us knows that."

Every part of me wants to believe her, wants to tell her that she's right about everything. But, there is a nagging reluctance that keeps pulling at me. The part of me that knows he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.

I look up at my mom, making a final decision despite how wrong it feels. "He really did try."

"Yes, he did." She puts her arms around me, pulling my head to her chest. "So, you're going?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

And I'm imagining him, standing on the beach. I'm imagining him with his father, laughing and listening to records. I'm imagining me there, sleeping in his bed while he takes the couch. I'm imaging him ending up in the bed anyway, the two of us entwined together, as though nothing had come between us.


	2. Two

**A/N: Second chapter, fantastic. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It really inspires me to keep going. The poem mentioned in the beginning of this is Fate Playing by Ted Hughes obviously. and it's a fantastic poem. Ted Hughes was married to Sylvia Plath just to clear up who the Sylvia mentioned is. Anyway. On with the show. **

There's a Ted Hughes poem that I've always loved and I'm reading it just before the plane lands in California. It somehow seems all at once appropriate and completely wrong for the situation at hand. It's the one about Sylvia being confused and waiting at the bus station for him while he's happily riding home on the train. The one about how her fleeting panic gave way to an even stronger love. And I let myself picture him greeting me in a frenzy of love. I picture his panicked face coming towards me. I picture him embracing me as though I've come back from the dead.

When he looks at me as I come through the gate, a single line from this poem is repeating in my head. _There, I knew what it was to be a miracle. _His eyes are giving him away. I can see him fighting back a smile. _Like love forty-nine times magnified._

He stands in front of me now with his hands in his pockets. The sun has tanned his skin to an even more perfect shade of olive which in turn makes his eyes seem to be an unreal shade of brown. He's watching me examine him. He's afraid of me, and rightfully so. I should be seething with anger. He isn't sure if I've come for the reasons he wanted me to come. He isn't sure exactly the reasons behind my coming at all. He shifts from foot to foot and raises his eyebrows in my general direction. "Shall we?" I nod and we're off.

In his car, we listen to the Violent Femmes and it feels like home. He sings softly along to the stereo and I remember how we used to do this all the time. I used to ask him to sing louder because he really does have a nice voice but he never would. I want to reach out to him but instead I look out the window and mouth the words silently.

At a stoplight, he says, without looking at me. "Why'd you come?"

I hesitate, then say. "Just wanted to." It becomes very hard not to smile.

"Oh yeah?" I'm not looking at him because this seems to be the theme of the car ride but I can hear him grinning.

"Yeah."

I want it to be this easy. I want us to be able to fall into this comfortable routine we had set up before. I want all of the ugliness surrounding this trip to suddenly disappear. He leaves the smile half on his face as he drives the rest of the way.

He points out the places he likes to go. Most of them bookstores, some of them coffee shops. He grimly reports that there are only two actual good record stores and then promises a visit to both. For those few moments, it is just like it was before. And I have almost forgotten how he left.

When we pull up to his new house, it hits me again and I don't get out of the car. He is halfway out the door when he turns to look at me. "Are you gonna get out?"

I'm staring at it. This is his home now. Not Stars Hollow. Not even New York. Venice Beach. "What? Oh. Yeah, I guess."

He climbs out of the car and gets my bags from the trunk. He leads the way to the front door and I follow close behind as if I could get lost in the short distance from the driveway. There are dogs in the yard, lots of dogs. He runs through their names and I'm amazed that he can remember all of them.

No one is home and he lifts the doormat with the toe of his boot, looking at me. I bend down and pick up the key he has revealed. His hands are full so I unlock the door and let us in. The house is not what I expected, not what I had been imagining these past few weeks. It is colorful and lively and doesn't suit Jess at all. I let myself wander around a bit, taking in his new life. There are pictures everywhere. As I'm walking towards the kitchen, I spot one on the wall to my left. It's a picture of what I assume to be his father and a woman with short blonde hair. They are standing with their arms around a small girl with big glasses who doesn't look too happy. I realize that this can't be Jess' sister, but she reminds me of him, regardless.

"Who's this?" I ask as he walks by me, having dropped my bags somewhere.

"That is Jimmy, the infamous father figure. And his lovely but crazy girlfriend, Sasha."

"And the little girl?"

"Sasha's daughter, Lily."

"She reminds me of you." I say, smiling at him. He's standing closer than I thought before I turned around. He loosens a bit when I'm facing him. His shoulders drop and he's slouching. His fingers reach out and he's toying with the belt loop on my jeans. I turn back around quickly because I don't want to be that girl again. I will not give in this time.

He lets out a breath as I turn from him. "Funny. She sort of reminded me of you when I first met her."

"Oh, yeah? Why?"

We're in the kitchen now and he's rummaging through the fridge that seems to be full of food but he is coming up with nothing.

"She likes to hide herself in closets, cupboards, whatever can fit her, and read."

"So, you're saying I'm a reclusive phonics addict?"

"More or less." He emerges from behind the refrigerator door with an unsatisfied look on his face. "All we have in this house is health food or leftover pizza."

"I'm not hungry." He looks at me in disbelief. "Really, I had a big breakfast. And lots of airplane peanuts."

"Pizza, it is." He pulls out a box and two sodas.

I grin at him. "Good. I'm famished."

I'm about to start on my third slice of pizza when I stop suddenly. "I was angry, you know."

He looks up from his food. "I don't blame you."

"Really angry. I mean, why then? Right at the end of senior year? Before prom, before graduation. It was just awful timing."

"It was. I know. But, I had to…"

"I think I understand it now." He nods slightly. "I probably wouldn't have been so upset if you had just…told me what was going on with you."

"You would've tried to talk me out of leaving."

I frown. "Probably." I wait a second before adding quietly. "I missed you."

He just looks at me, no emotion on his face. We're sitting on the floor, on opposite sides of the coffee table. He's moving to my side, crawling on his hands and knees. I would laugh but the look on his face is serious. When he's close enough that I feel his breath on my neck, he sits.

And that's it. He just sits next to me and we both look at the wall for what seems like hours. I remember the phone call, what I said to him on my graduation day. I had forgotten all about it until now. I turn and look at the side of his face. He's always had a tragic sort of look to him. Dark eyes, dark hair, the corners of his mouth always falling into an indifferent frown. "I…What I said that time, when you called but kept not saying anything, I meant it. Well, obviously not the whole letting it go part."

He closes his eyes and I'm terrified he's going to start crying. I don't know why I think this, he doesn't look like he's ever cried in his life. Instead, he lets out a sigh and opens them again. "Rory…I can't…" His hand is covering his face and I take it down, letting my fingers wrap around his. I try to make this easy for him. "I don't want to say that to you. It's…" He shakes his head and looks down at our fingers. "It's just full of promises I don't know if I can keep. Promises I'm not sure I can make to you."

"Jess, you don't have to promise me anything. I just need to know that…this is…something. I don't know. I just need to know that this isn't all in my head. I need to know that coming across the country was for something." I feel like I'm going to cry. My throat is tight and my eyes are stinging, but I don't let myself. I need to be strong.

But, he kisses me and I can't help myself. I'm sobbing into our kiss, tasting my own tears on his lips. He tries to pull away, to let me cry, to see what's wrong. I don't let him. I'm not ready to break contact yet. I feel pathetic but I'm clinging to him.

He finally gets the upper hand and pulls away from the kiss, forcefully. He looks scared, almost. His hand is still on my cheek and he's looking at me as though I've been unconscious and he's trying to revive me. "Rory, what's wrong?"

I shake my head but I'm still crying. I hate this feeling. My head hurts and I can't breathe properly. This is what I've been holding in for weeks, months. I finally regain my ability to speak. "Nothing. I'm sorry."

"C'mon."

He gets up and holds a hand out to me which I take eagerly. He walks me down a hall and I'm gripping that hand tightly. He's here. That's what I keep saying. I'm here, he's here. He leads me through a doorway and flips on a light. We're in a bathroom. I sit on the toilet, finally letting his hand free. He turns on the water and after a few seconds his hand is gently touching my shoulder. I let him hold my hair back as I splash the cold water onto my face. I smile weakly at him as I reach for a towel.

"So, why did you come? I mean, a real reason." He leans against the doorjamb with his arms folded across his chest.

"I came because…I guess because I threw away a lot to be with you, you know. I went against a lot of people I loved and trusted for you. And I didn't want them to be right about you. I wanted to prove them wrong."

He unfolds his arms and I think this is a signal to move toward him but I stay put. "Why'd you do it?"

I'm confused. I just answered this question. "Do what?"

"Throw it away, go against people you trusted. All of that, just for me. Why?"

"Because…I don't know. I liked you." I laugh. "It seems sort of stupid, doesn't it?"

He shakes his head firmly and seriously. "Not at all."

We stay silent in the bathroom for a few minutes, not looking at each other. Then, there's a noise coming from the front of the house and we're stirred back to life.

We walk back into the hallway and there's Jimmy. He smiles at Jess. "There you are." Then, he seems me, coming out from behind Jess. "Oh, you have company."

"Jimmy, this is Rory."

Jimmy looks surprised when he hears my name and is once again smiling widely. "Oh! Rory. Rory, you're here. Wow." Jess is rolling his eyes and he puts an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.

"It's nice to meet you." I hold out my hand for him to shake but he hugs me instead.

"Thank God, you're here. Jess has been moping for weeks."

Jess groans. "Jeez, Jimmy."

I look up at him, trying not to grin. "Moping, eh?"

"I was not moping."

Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at me. "He was moping." He eyes us for a second, Jess' arm is still protectively wrapped around my waist. "Well, I saw the pizza box in the living room so I guess you two have eaten. Sash and Lily should be home any minute now."

"Grrreat." Jess draws out the word sarcastically.

"Okay then." Jimmy retreats down the hallway and into a room.

Jess steers me into a bedroom and I sit on the edge of the bed.

"So, that was Jimmy?"

"That was Jimmy."

"He doesn't seem so bad."

"No."

"In fact, he's sort of exactly like you."

"Don't say that."

"No, he is."

"Well, we're both pathetic losers, so I guess you're right."

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant, your good qualities are similar."

I look around the room and realize this must be his. The curtains are drawn and it's a mess. There are piles of books on the floor and CD's scattered everywhere. "This is your room?"

"Yeah." He's moving my bags off of the bed so he can sit down next to me.

"Where am I sleeping?"

"There." He motions towards the floor next to the bed.

"The floor?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, it's hard and uncomfortable. That's a problem."

He laughs. "Don't worry. We have an air mattress somewhere."

"Okay, fine." I pout and he just smiles at me.

Later, Sasha and Lily come home and I am introduced. Once again, they act surprised and overjoyed to meet me. Sasha and Jimmy disappear into the kitchen and I can hear them arguing, my name being mentioned a few times. Jess assures me that this happened when he showed up and that it will pass.

I'm getting ready for bed in the hallway bathroom when Jess appears in the doorway. I stop brushing my teeth and look at him in the mirror. "What?"

"There's a phone in my room, you know."

"Oh." I start brushing my teeth again. I haven't even thought about calling home since I got here.

"Just thought you might want to call home or something."

I rinse my mouth out and spit. "I can call tomorrow. It's late there, anyway." I say, wiping my face with a towel.

"True."

I'm standing in front of him in my pajamas while he's still fully dressed. "Shall we?"

He nods and we walk back to his bedroom. Once inside, I suddenly feel awkward. I feel like we have been rewound. Two months ago, this would have been fine. Two months ago, we probably wouldn't have been standing on opposite sides of the bedroom, with our arms folded across our chests.

Suddenly, he is taking off his clothes. For a second, I stand and stare at him with wide eyes. Then, I quickly turn away from him, trying to occupy myself with my luggage and my air mattress. I hear him chuckle from the other side of the room and look up.

"What's funny?"

"This. Us. What we're doing."

"I don't know what to do with this!" I throw my hands in the air and gesture around the room. "I'm in your bedroom and you're getting undressed! What am I supposed to do?" He is moving closer. This is not a good idea seeing as he is now only wearing boxers and a white t-shirt. "You know, two months ago, I was ready to sleep with you! I was even on the pill!"

I stop, blushing furiously at the confession I have just made.

"Really?" He's smirking and raising his eyebrows and I hate it.

"Yes."

"Huh." And he's silent again.

Then, he's moving closer again. And his hands are on my arms, running up and down their sides. I let my hands fall on his waits, feeling the warmth of his skin through the worn fabric of his shirt. He doesn't kiss me, though. He puts his arms around me and pulls me closer to him. I stay there, pressed against him. And I'm reveling in the rise and fall of his chest. The sturdy feeling of his body.

We lie down on his bed and he lets his fingers get lost in my hair. When his fingers have stopped moving, I look at him. His eyes are closed and his mouth is slightly parted. I nestle into the curve of his body and let my eyes close.

I start to whisper because I think it's safe, because I think he won't wake up. "I don't understand. Dean loved me, I loved him. We were good together. Nothing was complicated. Why wasn't that good enough for me? Why did I trade him in for someone as broken as you?"

He speaks, his voice tired. "You were suffocating in that relationship. With or without me, it wasn't going to last forever." He sighs against my forehead. "Besides, I'm glad you traded him in. Someone as broken as me needed someone like you."

His breathing returns to its deep in and out and he has fallen back asleep. I look at him once more before falling asleep myself.


	3. Three

**A/N: This probably would have been longer but I'm going on vacation for a week tomorrow and wanted to leave you with something while I was gone. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. It truly is what keeps me going. Uh, song credit for this chapter: Pale Blue Eyes by Velvet Underground. This one verse always reminds me of Jess and Rory or how Jess might view Rory: "Thought of you as my mountain top. Thought of you as my peak. I thought of you as everything I've had but couldn't keep." This is all pointless, just read! **

I wake to the feeling of weight shifting on the bed. By the time my eyes are open, Jess is no longer next to me. I despise the emptiness I feel seeing his impression left on the mattress. I move over on the bed, stretching myself out, feeling the warmth leftover from his body. I look at the clock and it's seven in the morning.

Somewhere in the distance, I hear the shower running and there is music being played loudly so as to be heard over the running water. I smile as an image of him singing in the shower appears in my mind.

After a minute of lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for him to get done in the shower, I get up and let myself wander around the room. I immediately go for his desk. It is messy, covered with paper and notebooks and worn paperbacks. I shuffle through the papers, unsure of what I'm looking for until I find it. There are three pieces of paper that all start with "Dear Rory." Two of them have barely anything written on them and what is written has been scratched out furiously with a black pen. The third, however, is not scratched out.

_Dear Rory, _

_Kyle's party. I was going to break up with you. The whole night I was thinking about it. I was letting you down. I wasn't graduating. I couldn't take you to prom. There was no point. You wouldn't want me after all of it, anyway. And Luke was surely going to kick me out. So, I was going to break up with you. But, you came and found me and when I looked at you, I couldn't do it. All I wanted to do was kiss you and tell you that I loved you. But, I was scared shitless and never do anything I plan on doing. _

_I had to leave. I had to find a life somewhere else. I had to start over. I'm always starting over. _

At the bottom of the page there is a piece torn off and I search through my bag until I find the envelope. Pulling out his brief apology, I understand.

He walks back into the room then and sees me sitting at the desk with the letter in front of me. His hair is wet and he is fully clothed. I make no attempt to hide the fact that I was rummaging through his things.

"You weren't supposed to see that." He says, not moving from the doorway.

"I guess not."

He notices that I'm holding the note he actually sent to me. "It's like a puzzle, huh?"

"You were going to break up with me?" Anger is rising within me and I'm speaking through clenched teeth.

"Yes." He's avoiding my eyes.

"God." I pause and look at him, trying to force him to make eye contact. "I'm not stupid, you know? I saw your bag when I ran into you on the bus. I knew what was going on."

"I know."

"I hate you." I feel sick to my stomach because I realize I can't leave. It's not as easy as walking out the door and the few blocks to my house. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." I'm not yelling, though. I'm just muttering it to myself. Over and over.

"Rory…" His voice is wary and soft. I disregard it completely.

"I hate you!" I yell it at him this time. "I hate you for doing this to me. For making me do all the awful things I did when I was with you. I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for never telling me anything. You made me feel useless and I hated that feeling. I hated seeing you upset and not being able to make anything better because you wouldn't even tell me why you were upset in the first place. I just…I hate it. This! I hate this!" I take in a shaking breath. And then quietly, "I hate that despite everything, all of it, the leaving, the lies, you make me feel something."

This is how it should be. Only, I should be saying this over the phone, from the safety of my own bedroom where I can immediately hang up and cut him out of my life. Instead, I am here where this is no escape. I will not be able to cut him out when I am done. The angry words coming from my mouth will hang in the air between us when I am done. He will take them and do what he pleases and I will have to watch him. I will have to wait for his reaction.

His reaction does not come right away. Instead, he asks me, "Why are you so afraid?"

"Because I don't understand it! Why you? You're horrible to me! And Dean. Dean was perfect but I never felt this with him. But, you! I don't know what this is! What to do with it!"

I stop yelling and the room is dead silent, nothing moves, neither of us breathes. He won't look at me. I stand there, a hand on each side of my head, waiting.

"So, this is how it's going to be?" He inhales deeply. "You're always going to compare me to Dean."

"No…" But, he's right. It's what I've been during the whole time. "Yes." I say, defeated.

"Great." He turns to walk out of the room. I know I should say something, anything. When he's in the doorway, he stops, not turning around and says, "Maybe you shouldn't be here. Maybe this was a bad idea." And he walks out, leaving me to stand in the middle of his bedroom, shaking.

There is still music playing in the bathroom and without the sound of the shower to battle, it is loud. I listen, trying to recognize the song. _Linger on, your pale blue eyes- _And then, there is the sound of his fist coming down hard on the stereo. I collapse onto the bed, letting my tears roll into my ears, letting them block out the sound of silence.

I roll over onto my side and see the phone on his nightstand. I grab it and quickly dial a familiar number. It rings and rings. And then, finally.

"Daughter! How's the Sunshine State?"

"Actually, Florida is the Sunshine State." I try to cover up the sadness in my voice.

"Technicality. How are you? How's everything?" She says everything in a way that means Jess.

"Fine. Everything's fine." I hate that I'm lying to her. I hate that I don't feel like I can tell her what is going on.

"Just fine?"

"Great. Jess is great. I'm great. His family here is great. California is great."

"I am unconvinced. What's wrong, sweetie?"

"It's awful. Everything is going wrong. We just had this huge fight. Or, really I just started yelling at him. He was going to break up with me, did you know that? At Kyle's party, he wanted to break up with me. Of course, he didn't tell me this. I had to read it in the letter he didn't send to me. And I just went crazy. I told him I hated him about fifty times. And I compared him to Dean. That's when he walked out on me."

"Oh, babe…"

"It started out well, though. I mean, last night he was perfect."

"Last night?" Her ears have perked up now.

"He was being so gentle, I don't know. He didn't try anything. He didn't push me or try to fight with me. He let me sleep in his bed…"

"You slept in his bed? Was he in it?"

"He was, but it wasn't…We didn't do anything. He just…held me and we fell asleep. It felt nice to roll over and have something solid there, you know?"

"Rory, if anything does…"

"Mom. I know. Besides, the way things are going now, it doesn't look like we'll even be talking anytime soon." I am quiet for a second, thinking about my mother and wanting to be near her. "I want to come home." I feel like a child but I don't care.

"I know, honey. Just, ride it out, okay?"

I'm crying again. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you, too." And she is gone.

I hear the floorboards in the hall creaking slightly. When I get to the door, I see Jess walking back down the hall.

It is like this the entire day. Neither of us speaking to the other. I spend most of the time in his room with the door shut while he goes in and out of the house. I try to read but I can't focus on the words. I try to listen to music but I brought none of my own CD's and all of his bring up bad feelings in my stomach. I try to sleep but the bed is unfamiliar and does not smell like home. I try no to think about him. I try not to think about the distance between here and home, the impossibility of getting there anytime soon. I try to be happy.

I come out of his room when I smell dinner being made and hear voices in the kitchen. Jimmy and Sasha are standing in front of the stove, laughing and smiling at one another. When they hear me come into the room, they turn around.

"She lives!" Jimmy exclaims.

"I do." I smile awkwardly unsure of what is appropriate.

"Jess told us you weren't feeling well and that we should just let you rest in his room for the day. You look fine now, though."

I breathe a sigh of relief that they don't know the truth. I silently thank Jess for being such an impeccable liar.

"Oh, yeah. I feel much better now. Thanks."

Sasha turns from the pot she was stirring and addresses me. "Well, we're making spaghetti, if you're hungry."

"Oh, I'm starving….Do you know where Jess is?"

Jimmy furrows his brow. "He went out. Who knows where. You know how he is. But, he's probably at that bookstore that's about four blocks down."

"Oh, okay. I'm just going to go…look for him." I quickly exit the room and walk out of the house.

I'm not sure where to go, where to look for him but I make a right and start down the street. I am thankful it isn't dark yet. I walk for a few blocks when I see a bookstore on the corner. I decide to take my chances and walk in.

The bell on the door dings and everyone looks up at me. There are four older women in the store that I can see. They say hello and I smile at them before venturing further into the store. It seems like there's no one here. The aisles are empty and the room is almost silent save the soft chatter of the women up front. I turn a corner and head into the political science section. And there he is, sitting on the floor.

He doesn't notice me at first so I cough slightly and move closer to him. He looks at me and sighs heavily before I join him on the floor. "How'd you find me?"

"I just followed my wits."

An awkward silence falls between us then and we both sit, our hands fidgeting, our mouths forming words and then falling closed again.

Surprisingly, he speaks first. "I'm sorry for walking out on you like that, for leaving you alone all day. I was a jerk."

"You had your reasons, though." I hesitate, turning to look at him. When his eyes meet mine, it suddenly seems easier. "I'm sorry for comparing you to Dean, for saying I hated you, for saying you were horrible. I didn't mean any of it. I'm just mad at you for a lot of things. And I'm scared because this, us, we're so imperfect but somehow it feels…right, good, you know? I lose my self control when I'm with you and I don't like that feeling."

He reaches over and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him until our sides are flush. "I know." And, for him, it is as simple as that.

I kiss him on the cheek and feel the muscles in his face pull into a smile. "I wanted to go home so badly today."

"I heard you on the phone with your mom."

"Yeah…I want the rest of this week to be good. Homesickness is an awful feeling, you know."

"Been feeling it pretty much my entire life."

I am taken back by this comment. "What do you mean?"

"My whole life, nothing's ever really felt like home. New York never felt like home because I never felt safe coming back to the apartment. I never knew who would be in there. Would Liz be sober? Would she have one of her boyfriends over? Would she be married again by the time I got home from school?"

I nod slowly, taking it in. "Oh.."

"And, Stars Hollow. Everyone hated me there." His eyes dart to me quickly. "Except for you."

"You're not coming back, are you?" The realization hits me hard.

"I don't know, Rory. I need to figure things out."

"Yeah, oh, of course. I understand." I am fighting a feeling back but I'm not sure what it is. Anger, sadness, love. I decide it is all of them combined into a feeling that mostly just tightens my throat.

He stands up, pulling me up with him. Once we are standing, he kisses me quickly on the mouth. "Home?"

I smile widely at him. "Home."


	4. Four

We get back to the house and dinner is being placed on the table. I haven't eaten a thing all day and the sight of food causes a noise to erupt from my stomach. Jess looks at me and laughs. A broad, sweeping , honest laugh. I don't know that I have ever heard him laugh like that and I want nothing more than to kiss him and tell him how beautiful it is. I will my stomach to make more noises, but we are soon eating and all chances of this are gone.

The awkwardness of the night before has faded and something new is in its place. Throughout dinner, I am trying to determine what this new feeling is. Only when I catch him watching me as I eat do I realize that it is some odd form of longing that is bouncing back and forth between us now. Not a longing for the way things were, but a longing for the way things will be, should be. It is the hope that we can surpass everything and make this work.

After dinner, Jimmy pulls Jess aside and I stand silently in the hallway while they talk in the kitchen. I try to catch as much as I can of their conversation, almost certain that it pertains to me. Jimmy is whispering but Jess speaks at a normal volume.

"We're fine, Jimmy."

Jimmy whispers something and I vaguely hear "she" and "not sick."

"No, she wasn't sick, okay? We were fighting but it's okay now."

And then at a slightly louder volume, "Look, don't try to be my father now. I don't need your advice. I don't want you advice. So, just let me handle things. Okay?"

Jimmy stops whispering. "Fine. You know, I took you into this house on a whim. I am letting you live here and do nothing just because you asked me. And this is how you're going to treat me?"

I am already cringing when Jess' voice comes booming through the kitchen doorway. "You were gone for seventeen years! You letting me live here for a little while is hardly a favor! And you're not my father! You've never been my father! Sleeping with the woman who happened to give birth to me hardly makes you my father!"

He comes out of the kitchen fast and angry and almost runs into me. When he sees me standing there, he stops. "You heard that?"

I nod and try to grab hold of his hands. He pulls them away and pushes past me, closing the door to his room. I am immediately following him.

I don't know why I'm knocking on the door. I know he will only tell me to go away. And I know I will only barge in anyway. But, I knock. There is silence on the other side of the door and I open it slowly. He is sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. When I walk in, he looks up at me and sighs.

I stand in front of him. "Jess…"

He stops me. "I hate him sometimes." He sort of mumbles it to himself.

"Sometimes?" I gently sit down next to him.

"He acts like he has some sort of right to tell me what to do. As though he was really my father. But, he's not. He knows he's not." His voice sounds fragile, breaking as he speaks. He won't look at me. He's embarrassed and I understand this. "I mean, he acts like this is some huge favor that he's doing me, letting me live here. But, it's not. It hardly makes up for what he did to me."

I move closer, placing a hand on his back just between his shoulder blades. The up and down of his breath feels staggered beneath my palm. "I know what you mean…sort of."

He looks at me then. His face is tired. "You do?"

"Well, not exactly. I just mean that my dad was also sort of absent for the majority of my life and when he comes back, he suddenly acts like he belongs there. With mom more so than me He acts like she's waiting for him. Whenever something goes wrong, he's back and wanting to be a family again. But, we've never been a family."

He thinks about this for a second and nods slowly. He sits up a little straighter and looks at me, smiling. He kisses me and it's quick and gentle. A thought occurs to me as he's pulling back. "You know, when you think about it, Luke has sort of been a father for both of us."

He laughs slightly. "Well, we'll probably be step cousins pretty soon. I'm not sure this relationship could get any more incestuous."

I kiss him this time, letting my mouth linger on his. His hand is on my cheek, his fingertips brushing against the back of my neck. His mouth tastes clean, like forgiveness, like beginnings. His hands are now moving south, exploring the space between the hem of my shirt and my jeans. His palms are rough just like I remember and I'm pushing him backwards. When his head touches the pillow, he pulls away and opens his eyes.

I hate that he opens his eyes.

"Rory…" I stop him, pressing my mouth to his. I don't want to discuss this. If it's right, if now is the time, if we should be doing this with Jimmy and Sasha a few rooms over. I am tired of rationalizing things.

But, he's pushing me away again, trying to break my mouth from his. I'm fighting it, pressing harder, running my hands over places I know he wants me to touch. He's responding, pressing his body tightly against mine. After a minute, he is once again pulling away.

I let out an exasperated breath. "Jess, I know. You think we should discuss this. Fine. Let's discuss this. But, I don't know if I can focus properly…" I realize then that I'm straddling him and I don't intend to move. This is going to be a painful discussion for both of us.

He is looking up at me, his face flushed and his lips swollen. "I just…don't want us to be rushing into this and then blowing up at each other afterwards. You know?" His breathing is erratic and I smile at what I've done to him, am doing to him.

"I understand completely. But, this is what we've needed. We needed to be in a place where neither of us could run from the other. That way we talk about things." I look at him and move my hips around a bit, watching his eyes half close.

"Yeah, I guess. So, you're sure this is…right? That it's good? You want this?"

"Oh, yeah." I lean down and kiss him again. He doesn't fight this time.

My hands are working their way under his shirt. The feeling of his smooth skin beneath my hands makes my heart beat quicken. This combined with his fingertips against the fabric of my bra almost sends me into cardiac arrest.

Suddenly, I'm frightened because he is shirtless and I am shirtless and his hands are working on my jeans now. I stiffen and he notices. He looks up at me with concern in his eyes. "You're totally sure you want to do this?"

I sigh. "I just…you've done this and I haven't. It's like playing chess with a chess master when you've only just recently graduated from checkers."

He laughs that beautiful laugh from dinner. Then, an abashed look falls on his face. "I haven't…you know…I mean, I've fooled around but never…this." He gestures around us. "And not with someone that I…you know…" And he chokes on the last word. "…love."

I'm smiling idiotically at him. "You love me. You said it. You can't take it back." I lean down and kiss him softly, my bare breasts pressing against his chest. I back away from him and examine his face, his jaw line, his eyes, the way his bottom lip pulls to the side, the way his hair curls around the tops of his ears. He is beautiful, truly beautiful.

When he speaks, his voice is soft, "What are you thinking about?"

"The reasons I love you."

He puts his hands behind his head. "Oh yeah? And what are they?"

"Well…" I bend down and kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're good looking."

"Superficial reasons first. And, thank you."

I kiss him straight on the mouth. "You're strong, brave, but weak underneath it all."

"So, you enjoy that I put on an act?"

"No. I meant, you have layers. You're an onion. I have to fight to find certain things out."

"So, I'm challenging."

I kiss the other corner of his mouth. "Yes." My mouth moves to his jaw and when I make my way back towards his lips, he kisses me. It is full of fervor and for a minute I can't breathe.

Our lips disconnect and I sit up again. "Say it. Really this time, say it."

He squirms beneath me for a second but then he is looking me right in the eye with a smile slowly spreading across his face. "I love you." There is a feeling of liberation in our next kiss, as if all the horrible things of the past can no longer touch us. We are invincible within our love.

We spend hours with the door locked, touching and tasting. He is gentle with my body and every movement is slow and tentative. He looks up at me with questioning eyes every few minutes and I nod furiously, biting my lip.

Exhaustion comes eventually with slow kisses and lingering touches. We fall back on the bed next to each other and attempt in vain to catch our breath. We are both smiling now, big satisfied smiles.

I turn my head toward him, letting my chin rest on his shoulder. "Thank you."

He looks down at me, grinning. "Thank you? That's what you have to say after that?"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Definitely not thank you."

"Fine. How about…I sure got a bang out of that."

"Who are you? Holden Caulfield? And please don't say that I just 'gave you the time'."

"Oh, you gave me the time alright."

"Great, I think I'll give old Jane a buzz now."

I spring up in the bed, suddenly.

"Rory?"

"I have to call my mom." I am scrambling for my clothes, scouring the floor for my underwear.

"That's what you're going to do now? Call your mother? Wow. Of all the post-coital activities…Don't you at least want a cigarette first?"

He's watching me as I put my bra back on and I start to blush. I find the phone knocked off the nightstand, lying off the hook on the floor. I pick it up and pull my shirt over my head.

"Well, I certainly feel underdressed now."

I sit down on the edge of the bed and he scoots over closer to me. His hands are under my shirt again. I move away while I dial the number, but he moves with me. Now his mouth is on the small of my back and the phone is ringing. I begin to regret my decision not to put my jeans back on for this call.

"Hello?"

"Mom!" I scream it at her because his hand has worked its way up my thigh and found an old friend.

"Rory? Are you okay? You're not being attacked by beach bums are you? Just throw the volleyball back!"

I get up from the bed and he sticks his lower lip out at me.

I stretch the phone cord as far as it will go and take the phone into the hall with me, closing the bedroom door slightly. "No. Sorry. It was just a…thing. So. Hey! How are you?"

"Gooood. What's going on over there? Get the whole Jess thing worked out yet?"

"You could say that." I look up and down the hallway to make sure no one is in hearing distance.

"What else could I say?"

I take a deep breath. "First of all, you could say that Jess told me he loved me. And that he got into a fight with Jimmy and opened up to me about their relationship. You could also say that after the whole opening up thing, we…uh…."

"You what? Don't leave mommy hanging here."

"We did…it." I instantly regret the way that came out.

"You did what?" I can almost here her grinning over the phone. She enjoys making this painful for me.

"You know…It."

"Held hands? Watched a movie? What?"

"We had sex!"

"Oh! That 'it'."

"Yes."

"Well. How was it?"

"Mom…"

"I'm just curious."

I sigh. "Fine. It was amazing. Fantastic. The best three hours or so of my life."

"Whoa. Three hours? He sure has some stamina."

"We didn't just…you know, do that. Not just the one thing."

"Oooooh. Well, that's more than I needed to know. Was he all, uh, suited up?"

"Yes. Anyway, I started taking the pill again."

"Good. That's….good." She is silent and I hear the familiar clanking of dishes in the background.

"Mom? Are you at Luke's?"

"I might be."

"I can't believe we just had this conversation while you're sitting in Luke's. Who heard you?"

"Relax. No one's here. Except, well, Luke, of course."

"Oh, no."

"And he wants to talk to Jess right now."

There is an audible struggle for the phone before Luke's voice comes over the line. "Rory?"

"Luke. Hi."

"Is he around?"

"Yeah. Just a second."

I go back into the bedroom and he is lying in bed, reading. I hold the phone out to him. He gives me a puzzled look. "She wants to talk to me? Oh, you must've told her how fantastic I am and now she wants to have a go."

"No. It's Luke. She was at the diner."

He sits up and takes the phone from my hand. "Luke?"

I listen to his side of the conversation.

"I did not force myself upon her." He rolls his eyes. "Yes….Yes…YES…Oh, wow, that's a whole lot of Luke I didn't need to picture in my head…Well, you were describing it!….Alright…Jimmy is Jimmy…Yeah. Look, I wanted to apologize for leaving the way I did, for screwing things up…Yeah, okay…Bye, Uncle Luke."

I crawl into bed next to him as he tosses the phone onto the floor. "Aw. That conversation sounded almost touching."

"Yeah, except for when he was trying to describe his first time to me."

"You apologized."

"Yeah, well, he deserved an apology."

"Yes, he did."

I put my arms around him, resting my head on his chest. After a minute of lying peacefully, his mouth is against my ear, his warm breath whispering against my skin. "I'm sorry."


	5. Five

**A/N: Yeah, it's been a long time. I just started feeling like this story wasn't really going anywhere. I still feel that way. There's no direction, really. I mean, there's no core plot. Just them in California. And, frankly, I don't know what to do with them anymore. Regardless, I wrote this chapter and I may or may not write more. I've still got this other story I'm working on which I think will be good and I'm not going to post until it's completely done. Anyways. Here's the much delayed chapter five.**

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**I know intimacy now. It is here in his bed when I wake in the morning. It's early, I can tell by the way the sun is shining through the curtains. We are tangled in each other and he is snoring. Anyone else and it would be obnoxious, but watching him with his mouth half open as he sleeps makes me feel content. I let my fingers trail along his bare skin, watching his face to make sure I don't wake him up. His hand is resting gently on my hip, our legs are twisted together in an odd way, and so I am stuck there with him. I smile at the thought and kiss him lightly on the shoulder. He goes on snoring. 

But, I am restless now. I know that I won't be able to get back to sleep now that I've woken up. And so I fill the time with the task of memorizing his body, his face. And I try not to think about what will happen when the week is over. I try not to think about the fact that he is not coming back. Not to Stars Hollow, at least. But, trying not to worry only makes it worse.

I stare at the ceiling and think up different solutions to the problem we are now encountering. He could move to New Haven when I go to school. We could live together there. He could move back to New York. It's only a couple hours from Hartford. I could drop Yale, go to NYU. Or Columbia. The only real solution I come up with is that he can't stay here.

I'm staring at him when he wakes up. He groans and his eyes flutter open. "Morning." He mumbles as he stretches his body out, freeing my legs from his in the process. He relaxes his body again and kisses me. When he pulls back, he examines my face. "What were you thinking about before I woke up?"

I turn to lay on my back. "What happens after this week?" I turn my head so I'm looking at him again. "I mean, what do we do? What happens to us? Where are you going to go?"

He looks away from me. "I don't know."

"Maybe you should be thinking about it."

He sits up. "I didn't say I wasn't thinking about it. I just…haven't figured anything out yet."

I sit up, too, and gather the bed sheet around my body. "Well, what have you been thinking then?"

"Look. All I know is that I'm not going to stay here and I'm not going back to Stars Hollow."

"Why are you so adamant about not coming back to Stars Hollow? I mean, I'm there. Luke's there. You have a job there. It seems like the perfect option to me."

He's silent for a moment. He is turning this over in his mind, weighing the pros and cons. Meanwhile, I'm crossing my fingers.

"I can't go back there," He says finally. And that's all. No explanation. But, I understand. He doesn't want to stir things up again. He doesn't want to hurt Luke the way he did. He doesn't want people to talk. And so on and so forth. All of the bad things from the past year don't need to be repeated.

"Move to New Haven." I feel like begging, pleading. I feel like holding onto him too tight and saying, "I just want to be near you, don't stay away." That's exactly what I want to say to him, "Don't stay away."

"New Haven?"

"Yeah. We could get a cute little apartment and you could go to community college and it'll be perfect." I'm smiling, beaming at him, seeing all of this unfold in my mind. Us, as an actual couple. Us, living together. Us.

"With what money?"

"It doesn't matter. I can ask my grandparents."

He scoffs at this. "Yeah, they'll be totally willing to give you the money for an apartment. Until you mention my name and then they'll tear the check up."

"I can get it from them." He says nothing. "Or, I can ask my mom. Or, get a job. We'll both get jobs soon. Tomorrow. Today. We'll get jobs and we'll save all our money until we have enough. I'll work part time in the fall. We can do this."

"You're determined, aren't you?" He's laughing.

"I wish you would take this seriously."

"Rory." He looks away from me and sighs.

"What? Is the life you have now so great that you can't let go of it? Do you like having no permanent place to live?" I pause, taking a deep breath, catching my second wind. "Am I not enough? Not worth doing some minor rearranging for? Isn't that what love is?"

I don't want to cry, but everything is coming up inside of me. I get out of bed, not caring that I'm naked, that I'm exposed to him. I pull on my underwear. I look at him as I put my bra back on. "What were you going to do then? Since you obviously weren't going to be anywhere close to me."

"I was actually thinking about going back to New York."

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying. "You have nothing there and you know it."

He seems to accept this, not saying anything in response. His face doesn't change. He is staring past me, at nothing.

"You said earlier that you weren't staying here. Why not?"

"It doesn't feel right." His tone is emotionless, vacant, like he's not talking to me or thinking about what he's saying. His eyes are still focused on something that isn't there.

"No." I crawl back into bed, folding my legs underneath me and facing him. "Don't shut down. You can't do that. Not anymore."

"Alright, let's say we did that whole apartment thing. Who says I'm not going to let you down again? What if we can't make it work? Then it was all for nothing."

"Yeah, well. Maybe that's true. Maybe it won't work out. But, you don't know that for sure. If we never try, then we'll never know."

He still won't look at me and I hate having conversations when he won't look at me. I feel like nothing I say is getting through to him. I can't be sure if he's hearing me or not.

Then, his head turns towards me and he's smiling, actually smiling. I wonder if he knows what happens to me when he smiles. I can't breathe for a second. And suddenly, none of it matters. Not the future, not any of it. Just his smile. This unprovoked, mysterious smile.

He speaks quietly, like he's unsure of his words. "No one ever tries this hard with me…Most people just give up when I'm being difficult."

"Well, I'm a trooper," I say with a triumphant smile. We've gotten nowhere, but I feel successful. I feel like some sort of ground has been made. Anytime he is flat out smiling, there is ground being made.

We go to the beach. I'm shocked to find that he owns a swimsuit. Granted, it is a pair of plain black swimming trunks, but for some reason I imagined him sitting on the beach in jeans and his leather jacket.

I am self conscious in my bathing suit, despite the events of the previous night. Despite the fact that he has seen me completely naked and assured me, verbally and nonverbally, that he loved it. I throw on shorts and a tank top over it before I meet him in the living room.

He frowns when he sees me. "I'm disappointed."

I give him a coy smile. "You'll see it later." He keeps the frown and I add, "You might see more even later."

He smiles and tosses the sunscreen to me. "You're a candidate for skin cancer."

I start to apply the sunscreen to my arms and then I look at him. He is shirtless and his skin is tan. Much tanner than it had been before, in Stars Hollow. "A little help?" I gesture towards my back, taking off my tank top.

He grins deviously. "Of course." I love the feel of his hands against my skin. It is rough and his hands feel strong as they press against my back. Unknowingly, a moan builds in the back of my throat and comes out as a strange breathy noise. His hands stop working and I turn around to face him, my mouth pressing against his.

He pulls away and I say, "It was never like this with Dean." As soon as I say it, I want to take it back. I shouldn't have brought Dean up. I'm not supposed to be comparing the two anymore. But, it's true. I never wanted Dean the way I want Jess.

He isn't mad. He's smirking. He's kissing me again. "You know, we could always skip the beach."

"We have to leave the house sometime. I want to see California. Be a beach bum. Come on." I take his hand and we are out the door.

He laughs when I tell him I don't know how to swim. He doesn't think I'm serious. "Really, I never learned. There's no pool in Stars Hollow. My mom and I hardly ever went to the beach. Don't laugh."

But, he's still laughing. "Okay. We won't go too far out."

"Okay."

He runs off into the water, leaving me standing on the sand. He's going farther and farther. And now he's beckoning for me to follow him. I shake my head vigorously. But, he keeps gesturing. I take a step forward. The water is warm, not too warm, but not freezing cold. He calls my name, encouraging me to keep going. Like a father teaching a toddler. I smile and take a few more steps. The water is up to my thighs now and I feel confident. He is still too far away, but he's smiling so I keep walking towards him.

Suddenly the sand drops off drastically. The water is over my head and I start flailing my arms. I can hear him calling my name from somewhere off in the distance. The saltwater is burning my throat as I gulp more and more in. I panic. "Jess! Jess! JESS!"

"Rory? Where are you?"

Of course I can't answer him. I'm busy trying to just keep my head above the water, to stop from swallowing so much of it. But, it's getting harder as the tide is pulling me out. I can feel the water filling my lungs and then everything is black.

When my eyes open again, I swear I'm dead. This is heaven. Because my eyes are hazy and the sun is directly behind his head, making him glow. My eyes meet his and he lets out a breath that really comes out as, "Oh, shit." I want to laugh but I cough instead, water coming out of my mouth.

His face is worried and he's holding my hand. There is a lifeguard on my other side. She is blonde and gorgeous. I quickly look to Jess, "Did she give me…"

And then his face changes and he's grinning. "Oh, yes she did."

"Dirty."

The lifeguard looks down at me, "You're going to be fine. Next time, don't go out so far." She smiles warmly and then gets up to return to her post.

This is when Jess takes me in his arms and clings to me, almost desperately. My face is pressed against his shoulder, I taste the saltwater on his skin or maybe it's just the leftover water in my mouth. I mumble against him, "I told you I couldn't swim." And he's holding me so tight that I can't move. I like this feeling. It was almost worth drowning, coming near death, just to have him hold me like this.

I manage to move my head enough to look up at him. He's scared. He looks scared. I've never seen him with this look in his eyes. He kisses me on the forehead. "I almost killed you."

"But, you didn't."

He loosens his grip on me and I sit on the sand next to him. "But, still, almost. I'm a jackass. I didn't realize…Oh God, it's that accident all over again."

"Except this time it was really all your fault." I smile at him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey."

I kiss him. His hair is hanging down into his eyes, water dripping down his face. "You taste like the ocean."

"Maybe we should skip the beach for today."

"Yeah. That's probably best."


	6. Six

**A/N: This is probably the last chapter of this. I feel like I'm being really repetitive with this story, so I think it's best to just end it. Just humor my fantasies that Jess would call Rory "darlin'."Also, humor my fantasies that Jess would listen to Sigur Ros (side note: gorgeous Icelandic music, check it out). I feel like I made Rory seem really weak in this chapter. But, I don't know. Anyway, on with it. **

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By the end of the week, I'm so in love with him that I throw up the morning of my last day there. I'm lying in bed next to him, his lips resting gently on my shoulder and suddenly I feel sick. Because this won't happen again, not for a while. This is the last time I will be able to lie next to him. This is the last time he will unconsciously let his lips graze my skin. This is the last time I will feel his warm, moist breath against my skin. 

I run into the bathroom and let it out, hoping he doesn't hear me and wake up. I want to be able to climb back into bed with him. But, he's standing in the doorway looking concerned. He sits on the edge of the bathtub across from where I am currently kneeling in front of the toilet.

"What's wrong, darlin'?" His voice is laced with tiredness and I smile at the pet name he has given me.

"Nothing." I reach up and flush the toilet, wiping at my face. I stand and start to brush my teeth.

"Well, something's wrong. You just threw up." He pauses in thought for a second and the gasps audibly. "You're not…That wasn't…."

I look at him in the mirror with a smile. "No, that was not morning sickness. I am not pregnant. At least, not to my knowledge…"

His face contorts in fear again and I laugh. "It's not funny."

"You're right."

"So, why were you sick then?"

"Just…It's nothing." I don't want to tell him. It sounds pathetic as I form the sentence in my head and I don't want to say it to him. That I'm sick because of him. That I'm literally ill at the thought of leaving him.

He comes up behind me and places his hands on my hips. "Tell me." He says, kissing my shoulder.

"This is my last day." I say after I rinse the toothpaste out of my mouth.

"You got sick because you were leaving?" He uses his hands to gently turn me around.

I look down, ashamed. "I guess…"

He smiles. "Adorable." And kisses me sweetly.

This is when I have my first breakdown of the day. I start to sob there in his arms against the sink as he kisses me. He pulls away and I speak before he can question me.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to just be a phase. That's what I told myself after we first got together. That this wasn't going to be anything real, anything serious. It was just going to be something I did because I wanted it. I wanted you. I wasn't supposed to…You were supposed to hurt me and I was supposed to learn from it and move on. You were just supposed to be the complete opposite of Dean. Something new."

He backs away from me and I know that he's mad. The things I'm saying to him, while true, are horrible. Anyway, I only thought them in the beginning. They're not true anymore which is why this hurts more than it should. I keep going, grabbing onto his arm so he'll look at me and stop pacing in front of me.

"Don't you get it? The novelty didn't wear off like it was supposed to! You turned about to be something completely different! Not just a phase, not just something I wanted to do. You did hurt me and I did learn from it, but I didn't move on! I dwelled. I…I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you."

And I collapse against him, my forehead resting on his bare chest, my fingers gripping at his hips for stability. I don't want to leave him. I want him to come back with me. He's gently massaging my neck through my hair and gradually my breathing returns to normal. He pushes me gently away from him.

"To be honest, you were just supposed to be a distraction. From being stuck in that crappy town." He smiles down at me and I try to return it.

"Come back with me." A pause. "Please." He still doesn't respond. "Jess. Please." I look him in the eye and he holds the contact for a few seconds before looking away with a sigh.

"I can't."

This cues breakdown number one and a half. This mostly consists of me walking away from him angrily and slamming the bedroom door in his face. I throw myself onto the bed and immediately regret it. The sheets smell too strongly of him and I'm trying to be mad. I get up and start to pace around the room. I can hear him knocking softly on the door, but I don't open and I don't respond to him calling out my name.

Eventually, he stops knocking and he stops calling my name. I find the phone and I call my mother.

"California, here we coooommme." She sings in her off key voice and I don't laugh.

"Mom.."

"Sorry. I should've known you'd prefer the Rufus Wainwright song."

"Mom…" I'm hoping she'll detect the upset tone of my voice and stop making jokes.

"Sweets, what's wrong?"

"I'm coming home today…"

"Yes. You're coming home to me today." I can hear her grinning through the phone. She pauses. "Wait. Why do you sound upset about this?"

"It's just…" And this is officially breakdown number two. I try to choke words out around my sobs, but it proves to be fruitless so I wait for them to pass.

"Rory, honey, calm down."

"He won't come home. He doesn't want to be with me. I can't…I thought I'd be enough…"

"Oh, sweetie, he's got so much going on in his life right now. He's gotta get to know his dad. He's gotta figure himself out. You can't expect him to just come back here. He needs time. It has nothing to do with you."

She's right, of course. "I guess. I just don't like him being so far away. This week has been…wonderful and now it's over. And I have to come home and face Dean and his wedding and…"

"You'll be fine. You'll come home and you'll start getting ready for college. It'll take your mind off of things. I swear."

I'm sitting on the bed, playing with a thread that is unraveling form the sheets. I look down at it between my fingers and frown. "Yeah, okay. Well, I gotta go. I sort of freaked out on Jess. I should find him."

"That's a girl. I love you."

"Love you, too." I hang up the phone and stare at it for a few moments. I jump up quickly and go to look for Jess.

He's sitting at the kitchen table in nothing but his boxers and I can't help but laugh. He shoots me a look and I abruptly cease my laughing.

"You locked me out before I could even put clothes on." He says, dryly without looking up from the cereal he's eating.

"Yeah, sorry about that." I sit down across from him, grabbing the cereal box and grabbing a handful.

"Rory, you have to know that my not coming back to Stars Hollow has nothing to do with you or me not wanting to be with you."

"I know. I'm sorry. I realize that you just need time to get yourself together." I chew the cereal slowly, looking at him. "Do you think you'll ever come back?"

"I don't know." He says softly, meeting my eyes.

"Okay." And just as he shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth I add, "Dean's getting married, you know."

He almost chokes on the cereal and milk comes seeping out of the corners of his mouth. "To that blonde chick?"

"Lindsay, yeah."

"Huh." He swallows both visibly and audibly. "Had to marry him before he got too tall to talk to, I guess."

I laugh. "That's exactly what my mom said."

He rolls his eyes. "Is that what this is about?"

"What? You and my mother being separated at birth?"

"No, I mean. Is the reason you came here because Dean is getting married? Did you feel like you had to prove something to him?"

"No, that's not it at all."

He stands and walks over to the sink, rinsing out his bowl and putting it in the dishwasher. He turns around and leans back on the counter, looking at me. "Okay." But it's a very unconvincing okay.

"Really. I mean, yes, he said some things to me when he told me about the engagement. But, that's not all why I'm.."

"What sort of things did he say to you?"

"He said…" I look at my feet briefly before looking back up at him, meeting his eyes. "He said that he was sorry I had a crappy relationship and that you treated me like dirt…"

He pushes himself off of the counter angrily. "So, this is about him. That's why you want me to come back there so badly. So you can rub it in their faces. This isn't even about me, is it? I can't believe…" He trails off and just walks away. I hear the faint close of the bedroom door and I sit back down at the table, defeated.

Surprisingly, breakdown number three doesn't happen then. I expect it to. I sit there and wait for it, thinking it's better that I wait before I go talk to him. When I realize it's not going to come, I make my way to his room.

I hear music playing softly and when I open the door, he's lying in bed a hand over his eyes. I sit down gently on the edge of the bed.

"You're listening to Sigur Ros."

"Yeah?" He doesn't lift his hand from his eyes.

"Just…You listen to this when you're upset."

"Well, I am upset. Besides, it helps…clear my head."

I nod dumbly. He can't see me. It doesn't matter. I walk around to the other side of the bed and lie next to him. He still won't move his hand. I close my eyes and focus my attention on the song. The swell of the strings and the oddly soothing sound of the Icelandic vocals. It does clear your head. Suddenly, the entire morning is forgotten and I see nothing but hope. I open my eyes and turn on my side to look at him intently.

"Jess. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I didn't come here because of what Dean said. He just forced me to think about things."

Finally, he moves his hand and lets me see his eyes. They're beautiful and I make a note to tell him this later. "And what did you think?"

"I thought that you did treat me badly then…"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that. I know. It doesn't matter anymore. There's something between us. You feel it, don't you?"

He smiles at me. "Yeah. I think I do." He places a hand gently on my cheek and I turn into it, reveling in his touch. "Did it make you jealous?" He says it softly.

"Did what make me jealous?"

"Dean getting married. Did it make you jealous? Did you wish our relationship was stronger?"

"…Yes."

"Well, I'm not going to propose." He laughs and leans in to kiss me.

"I'm a little disappointed. I was ready to throw my life away for you." I'm joking, but both of our faces become serious. I kiss him again, harder. He pulls away and I say, "You know, that never gets old."

"Well, like I said, whatever else happens, at least that works."

I want to kiss him again, but I don't. "I love you."

"Back at ya." He grins and gets out of bed. "We should probably get dressed."

"Probably." I look at the clock. "My flight leaves in four hours. That means…"

I'm about to have breakdown number three finally, but he stops me. He leans down to me and takes my face in his hands. He says steadily and strongly, "Don't think about it."

"Okay."

I watch him move as he gets dressed and try to assure myself that I'll be fine. I tell myself it's only a matter of a few months before he comes home. I tell myself that I didn't want to be this girl in the first place. I didn't want to be desperate and helpless without him. I tell myself to be strong about this.

It's strange how much has changed in this week. Before, I hated him. After he left, I promised myself I'd be done. I'd get over it. But, he forced his way back into my life. He was always forcing himself into places he shouldn't be. I thought that if I was having trouble thinking of concrete reasons for being with him, then it must really be something. This must really be love. It's not his jaw line. It's not his hands. It's not his reading habits. It's not the way he laughs. It's something else completely. Something I can feel in the pit of my stomach when he says my name. When he walks into the room. It's something nameless, but I feel it now when I look at him against the California sun pouring in through the window. I feel it when he smiles, something he never did before he came here.

It hits me. I want him to stay here. I say it out loud, "Stay."

He looks at me in the mirror above the dresser. He doesn't ask any questions, he never does. He nods. He says, "Okay." But then he says, "Rory, this isn't home for me. I'll come back, when it's right."

At the airport, I hold him like he's on his deathbed. My arms firmly around his neck, his tightly gripping my waist. I press as much of my weight against him as I can without causing us to topple over. I'm crying, but I'm not hysterical. They call for my flight and he looks at me. I kiss him and try not to think of it as the last time. I pull away until we are just holding hands loosely, still not losing contact.

He says it first, delicately and almost like a question. "I love you."

I bite my lip hard. "I love you, too." And then I turn towards the gate, looking back at him and saying, "Home, I guess."

He kisses me quickly, not wanting to drag it out any longer than is necessary. And with a nod of his head he says, "Home."


End file.
